


Just Out of Reach

by Kelly_Namikaze



Series: Adam's Song [6]
Category: Batman - Fandom
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Gen, Not that much though, Sad, implied/referenced cutting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-22 19:43:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12489400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kelly_Namikaze/pseuds/Kelly_Namikaze
Summary: When Dick gets his voicemail, he turns to the last resort. A bottle.





	Just Out of Reach

Dick was in the cave, at the training mats, beating the crap out of one of the dummies. Sweat was pouring down his face, and his muscles ached, but he didn't dare stop. He didn't want to think anymore, because it hurt to think over the words he was left with. It was painful, and he was tired of being in _pain_. Finally, his body close to giving out, he flopped down to the mats, tears mingling with the sweat streaming down his face. _Why, Jason?_ He thought to the empty cave.

There was no response.

\--------

“Yo, Goldie, how ya doing?”

_Terrible_.

“I know you're gonna be at Arkham when I leave this, so I have some time to unpack what I want to say to you.”

_You were right, and that made sure that we didn't get the messages until it was much later. Asshole move, Little Wing._

“Let's start off with with pre-death stuff that I still hold onto. After all, that's the first chronologically. I looked up to you so much when I was Robin. You were my _hero_ , even more than B was. Which was hard, but you managed effortlessly. And I get that you were arguing with Bruce at the time, but I was bitter about the fact that you could barely stand to be in my presence. Did I remind you of simpler times? Because honestly, I get that now, and I find it funny. Black sheep having something in common with the golden boy? Laughable.”

_I knew that, and yet I still pushed you away, not caring about you, even though you should have gotten my full attention when I was around. I don't know why I never spoke to you, but I wish I did, you seem so nice. I haven't even had an actual conversation with you since you've come back, have I? Guess it's just another failing of me as a brother._

“All I wanted was an older brother, but that was never gonna happen. I wasn't a good enough person to get anything I wanted. Anyways, let's move on, enough angst about that. Now, let's discuss post resurrection.”

_You should've had an older brother, but you_ didn't _. That wasn't because of you though, it was because of me._

“I never expected you to kill the Joker, not really, so stop beating yourself up, as you do. I think it took far too long for me to figure that out though, and I hurt you guys because I wasn't smart enough to figure out my own emotions.”

_I can't blame you for that, not now, not ever. We should have done better, it's not your fault._

“I'm sorry.”

_Don't be._

“I've torn into the family more times than I care to think about, except that's all I've done with my second life. I can't justify it, even if I want to, I don't get that right anymore. You know, I told Cass this, but I don't think I deserved the second chance I got, so I'm going away now that I did what I had to.”

_You're forgiven, just come_ back _Jay. We just want you back._

“I have some stuff for you, and I think you'll like it. Be the best thing you've ever got from me. In my place on Main St. is an old China cabinet in the living room. It has a box full of pictures, new and old. I guess I have _some_ sentimentality left, I couldn't throw those out, even if keeping them hurt just as much. They have all of the happy times I've ever shared with you bats. Honestly, there are more than I thought. I'm sure Alfred will appreciate some for the scrapbook.”

_I always knew you were a big softy, using a tough shell to hide it. I guess though, growing up in the streets makes a shell like that a necessity. Did you have to toughen your shell after though? When you were around us? I don't think I wanna know._

“Hey, can you do me a favour? Don't die, kay? I've got to go, messages to make and so little time. Bye Dickiebird.”

_He sounds so_ casual _, like he isn't gonna go slice open his arm, like he isn't trying to bleed himself out._

“Stay safe.”

_What about_ you _?_

\-------

Alfred found Dick in the main kitchen, slouched over the island, holding an empty bottle of scotch, presumably because it was easiest to find. He also was clutching an old Polaroid, while a black box sat on his right side.

The butler approached, and took in details he hadn't seen before, like the red-rimmed eyes and tear tracks down his face. “Master Richard,” He began. “What are you doing?”

The young man startled, as if he was electrocuted, before slouching back down. “He didn't deserve to feel like that. Why didn't he tell anyone? Didn't we deserve to know, to _help_?”

The butler shook his head, knowing who Richard was referring to. “Master Richard, I believe that Master Jason didn't wish to appear weak, as he so often does. However, I think we should get you to bed, it is late, and you haven't slept in an actual bed in a week.” Alfred told the inebriated man, getting him to put the picture down and head upstairs.

Once making sure that Dick was safely to his room, he cleaned up the bottle from Dick’s visit to the kitchen, but stopped at the picture he had left out of the box.

It was older, around six-eight years. He remembered the day it was taken. Richard had actually made a temporary truce, and so Jason had decided it was the perfect time for a family photo.

Bruce stood stoically, accept the smallest of upturn of his lips at the corner of his mouth. His right hand resting on Jason's shoulder, Dick having batted away Bruce's attempt at doing the same to him. Alfred stood behind the older of the kids, a slight smile sitting on his face.

Alfred had to make a copy of the picture, as Jason refused to give up the original. The British butler had never seen it while cleaning the manor, and he wondered where the boy had kept it. The answer seemed to be one of the safe houses that he had kept from a boy. He smiled sadly, the boy in the picture so different than who he was now, and he didn't know how someone could break so much, and still truck onwards.

He supposed that he could use some of that scotch too.


End file.
